Warm days and cool nights. Crisp mornings with mist in the valleys as I head down the hill to the gym before the kids wake up. An orange sun hanging low in the sky. Smoke and rainbows and thunderstorms and dry, dry earth. A desiccated vegetable garden. The smell of the water hitting the dry straw as I hand water each bed with a kinky length of green garden hose. Stolen hours at the beach each weekend, a surfboard and a novel tucked into the car as I wave goodbye to the kids. Tired children roaming around the garden, finding themselves again after long days at school. Knitting on the front verandah after a long summer hiatus. Full nights of sleep soaking into my soul after a decade of broken dreams rousing for the baby. The end of summer.